


Harness the Kindness

by serotoninDeficient



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Eating Disorders, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Literally Touch-Starved, Patton Needs a Hug, Post-Episode: Putting Others First - Selfishness v. Selflessness Redux | Sanders Sides, The Author Regrets Everything, Why Did I Write This?, author needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:41:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24486814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serotoninDeficient/pseuds/serotoninDeficient
Summary: Just an angsty little vent piece based on that poem that’s been circling lately -- you may have seen it as a TikTok audio, but I found a written version, link below. I don’t know if it’s the original or not.Or, in other words: Patton isn't doing so hot. He's built his whole personality around giving, but it's taking a toll on him.Original poem here: https://hellopoetry.com/Yellow_999/Tiktok I was thinking of when I wrote this here (skip to 4:31): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MP_iOPf2S0Y&t=220s
Comments: 18
Kudos: 58





	Harness the Kindness

**Author's Note:**

> The poem does not belong to me, although there are lines from it in this fic.
> 
> I don't really know why I'm posting this, honestly. I wrote it in, like, half an hour.
> 
> The lines that are entirely in italics are lines from the poem. Everything else is Patton's internal monologue.
> 
> In other words: Me? Projecting onto Patton?! Preposterous!

_I cannot give any more._

The realization shocks Patton to the core. He’s _exhausted,_ and he feels hollow, and so, _so alone._

_I cannot give any more._

It hurts. It hurts so very much, but he knows it’s true. He’s completely spent. There is nothing left in him to give. He feels like the Giving Tree, but worse. The tree was happy at the end, because the boy was happy. But he’s not happy.

He hasn’t been happy for a very long time.

_But my whole personality is built around kindness, and if I can’t give, then I’m… what?_

His shoulders curl in on themselves and he wraps his arms around his middle, trying to hold himself together. Everything hurts, but he doesn’t know how to fix it. He doesn’t know if he _can_ fix it.

_Stuck._

It’s well past dinner time now. He knows he should go eat, but he’s already checked in on the others to make sure they’ve eaten, and he just… doesn’t have the energy to prepare anything for himself.

He’s not sure he deserves it.

_So let’s work this out. What’s wrong with your heart?_

He should ask for help. He _knows_ he should ask for help. He’d want any of the others to ask for help, if they felt like this, but it’s… different, when it’s him. He’s not supposed to need help. He’s the one who _gives_ help, not the one who asks for it.

_It won’t come out, no. It won’t even start._

And god, everything is just going _so wrong._ He _hurt_ Thomas by insisting they go to the wedding. He hurt Thomas when he tried to hold fast to his beliefs, and he hurt Thomas when he tried to be more flexible.

He just keeps hurting Thomas.

_And then moving on, what’s wrong with your brain?_

And _god,_ Logan. He was so _horrible_ to Logan. He knows he shouldn’t have skipped past him like that, but… he just… It hurt, to hear Logan telling him he was wrong, like that. He _was_ wrong, but it just felt so much like it used to, when they refused to listen to any of his contributions. So, he pressed the skip button, and brought Janus into the conversation. And bringing Janus into the conversation hurt Roman.

Oh, _Roman._

_It yearns for the past, but it won’t be the same._

He should check on him. He _knows_ he should check on him, he knows Roman bottles things up almost as much as Patton himself, but… Roman was so _angry_ earlier, when Patton popped by to ask if he’d eaten. Not at Patton; at himself. At Janus. At everything.

_It’s clear to see, you’ve got a disease._

Just once, Patton wishes someone would come check on _him._ Ask _him_ if he’s eaten, how he’s doing, is he actually okay or is he just saying that so they don’t worry. But they never do.

He hates himself for being mad at them for that.

_What’s the disease? Well, it’s called empathy._

It’s not fair, he knows. He’s the _heart._ He’s the father figure. Of _course_ he’s supposed to take care of the others. It’s not fair for him to be mad at them for not noticing when he’s struggling. Especially when he goes to such lengths to hide it.

_It means you’ll give blood ‘til there’s none left to bleed._

Absentmindedly, he scratches at his leg, relishing the distracting sting of the still-healing cuts concealed beneath the fabric of his pants.

_But I do not want to be kind!_

It’s not their fault for assuming he’s fine, given no real information about his mental state. But that doesn’t stop it from hurting.

_I only want to survive._

He wonders how bad he needs to get before one of them notices something is wrong. How much weight he needs to lose, because he simply doesn’t want to feed himself, because he doesn’t want to bother them with his need for physical contact.

It’s been thirty years and they still don’t know it’s like food to him.

_This effort’s exhausting, it’s getting me nowhere, and where does that leave me?_

How many times does he need to say, “We take care of each other when we can’t take care of ourselves” before they realize he’s applying it to himself, too?

_Alone._

Objectively, he knows they’d probably care if he told them how much he’s struggling. He knows they’d listen and hold him and feed him, until his ribs don’t stick out so much, but… he can’t shake the feeling that it’d be… _different._ For him.

_You do not have a choice._

Sure, they’d hold him and feed him, but part of him whispers that it would be out of pity, or obligation. Not because they love him.

_The honey slips into your voice._

Do they love him?

_Caring is what fulfills you._

Of _course_ they love him, he reminds himself. How dare he degrade them like that? How could he think so lowly of them as to convince himself they’re cruel enough to only _pretend_ to like him?

(The thought sits in the back of his mind anyway.)

_Learn to harness it before it kills you._

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, hello, I am sad and lonely and crave validation, please leave me a comment telling me what you think if you're so inclined.
> 
> Also! If you have the original source for this poem, please comment below so I can credit the author properly!


End file.
